There was once three neighbors, their names were Fear, Wisdom and Deception. Every day, each would wake up, and have a conversation with someone walking by, trying to get them to come inside, but each would say something different. Fear would come first, and call out, “come in here, and be safe, you have no idea what is coming ahead, you could trip and die, or break a leg.” Next came out wisdom who would say, “Come in, and eat something, and sit down for a second, that you may be prepared for the journey ahead.” Finally came out Deception, who would declare, “Enter into my house, and have riches for the rest of your life, and rule over the land, never having to return to work, and never falling ill.” Almost every body would stop, at one house or another, but only the ones who came to the house of Wisdom left truly happy.

Living in a house of Fear was never going to be easy. Nor was living in a house of Deception.

In Fear, everyone was afraid, and everyone was feared, but it was the children of the house of Fear who suffered most. Day after day they faced torment, and this was not the house of Deception – there was no kind lie to cling to, not even the kind you tell yourself.

In the house of Deception there could be soft moments, for all the best lies had a grain of truth. In the house of Fear, the terror was unrelenting. In Deception the cracks showed in the corners; the rot oozed in where they appeared leaving a chill that sat hard on the bones, unshaken even by the most expensive blankets and luxurious falsehoods.

Is that better or worse though than Fear? Nothing covering the crater sized hole in the ceiling, but no demand to pretend it wasn't there. Shaking through the harsh winter until your remaining teeth fall from your skull like the rain coming through the roof.

Father Fear is big: a loud, angry drunk made of fists and belts and crushing self hatred at personal inadequacy exercised on others. The house shakes with him, and he breaks with it.

Father Deception is small, and his lies start that way too. He fades into the wallpaper and into the corner of the sofa and into his office and eventually into Nothing at all. He strokes the children's hair "I will always be here for you". He kisses his wife goodnight. "I will always love you." He is made of burnt paper and lipstick stains and brown envelopes with URGENT stamped across them.

Mother Fear is always there. Even when you leave she is There. Her violence is not as omnipresent as Father's but it is all the more shocking for it. Her rings cut their cheeks and her words cut more than that. Her panic smothers her at night and she relieves this by smothering her children in turn. If they can't breathe they can't run.

Mother Deception doesn't need to lock her children in the house. They do it themselves.

The children of Fear are wild things. That's all they know how to be. That's all they can be. They are gremlins and ragdolls and feral creatures. Blood under their nails and dirt in their eyes. They scratch and swear and turn on each other.

The children of Deception are Boys and Girls. He is a boy. He is strong and plays football and he will never, ever cry. He is going to be a good husband, worker, amd soldier. She is a girl. She is pretty and perfect and ladylike. She will never complain. She will be a good mother.